Use the Batsignal
by fights
Summary: A collection of short fanfics 100 words and up. Genderbend, slash and general le trash. Batman/Joker, Batman/Gordon, Superman/Batman.../Joker?
1. Make Up Artist

**Title:** Secret Desire**  
Author:** Ol' Fighty  
**Pairing:** JokerxFem!Batman**  
Prompt:** genderbend  
**Warnings:** Sexual violence and abuse, ;-;  
**Words:** 335 Words

* * *

"Mama always said my most beautiful feature was my lips," the Joker let the bar of red smear her lips, her body leaned close to mirror that was so cracked that Batman didn't know what she was looking at or if she was using a broken reflection to avoid seeing her own scars. She let he eyes align with Batman's and went back to smearing her ghoulishly white cheeks with blush, probably to add the blush hidden under the layers of white creme. "Bats? What do you think, do I look nice. I got dressed up just for you."

A gloved hand pulled at the side, down and then patted the edges. Checking her gaudy ear jangles with a head turn.

Her magic purple spaghetti strap dress constricted around her middle, making the rolls apparent. At the hips the dress shot out like a tutu, layers of mixed taffeta, dark purple, rolls of lace and net-like fabric layered like a purple rose. Up her legs ran a pair of while, plastic-looking hooker boots all the way up to her thighs. She pulled one knee off the counter top, Batman's eye twitched catching sight of the Joker's exposed... Lady Area. She held the back of the dress after that, the fingers of her right hand covering her lips. "No peeking."

"I wasn't..." He curled his fingers under his palms, yellow rope tight around his wrists, trying to (now) look down at the floor.

"Look how crazy you've made me! Look at me! Aw." Her head tilted examining Batman's lack of shock and shrugged regardless, then planted a chaste kiss on his lips, "bubby."

"You said Rachel was in trouble!" The grouse voice faded. Batman might as well whined like a loser dog, being stupid. For trusting—TRUSTING—the Joker to keep a promise.

His head dipped in his own naiveté.

"Oh, Rachel is in trouble," she nods with a cute smile, her voice dipping a husky wisper. "She's in trouble. But not as much as you."

[**The End**]


	2. Secret Desire

**Title:** Secret Desire**  
Author:** Ol' Fighty  
**Pairing:** JokerxFem!Batman**  
Prompt:** genderbend  
**Warnings:** Sexual violence and abuse, ;-;  
**Words:** 258 words

* * *

The way he kicked, he knew she was a lady. His head cracked back and up, after nearly being knocked out for the count.

Dainty feet. Not that she kicked like a lady, but those legs couldn't belong to a man. She may be part bat, or not. Batman was definitely a lady with of the highest pedigree. His sights were eyeing Batman's ankle, how it tapered so thin. She thought to put in the fake muscles and male package in the suit, but neglected the ankle area. His lips smacked, contemplating the the next kick. Her shoes were flat, but had they been heels, maybe he could, should, would rob a Nine West, or Gucci, equip her with a dual pair of bags to smack the white on his face until his cheeks flushed red.

A nice pair of heels. Could she manage to chase him down the streets as well? He could catch her instead if she tripped.

"C'mon, I want you to do it." Again. Again. He egged, practically begged his damsel starting to distress.

Her gaze looked him up in down, in appraisal. Lips, cute bare pink lips folding into her mouth, teeth running over the edges.

She needed make-up.

Channel? Is that what girls liked?

He caught her foot and ran his hand up and down it's length, as Batman fought for control and freedom.

"Size five," the Joker smiled, releasing the heel with a rough toss.

He loved when she was disgusted at him, when that mask broke to reveal the man—Batman—was an act.

Which meant the next hit would knock him out, which was all right.

At least he would know her shoe size the next time he broke out of Arkham.

[**The End**]


	3. It's Not Easy

**Title:** It's Not Easy  
**Author:** Ol' Fighty (fights)  
**Prompt:** "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall." – Measure for Measure (Act II, Scene i)  
**Rating:** PG 15, Gay overtones.  
**Warnings:** Sexual violence and abuse, ;-;  
**Summary:** "Batman found himself conflicted, the man was clearly insane and on drugs. But despite the mind numbing chemicals and pills, it didn't stop making him want to be near Batman." BatmanxJoker [Double inspiration from a terrible source.]  
**Word Count:** Without Lyrics, 597

-

* * *

-

Love Now  
Fragile like a glass  
Slowly crumbling down  
Please make it stop

It's Not Easy  
When I still love you so  
How can I say good-bye?  
Smile and and say, "It's a silly joke."

My darling.  
Before I fall down and break down  
Please don't turn away  
Don't you understand  
For me  
It's Not Easy

-

* * *

The room was pitch dark and still he found him.

The Joker tugged at his black suit, his drugged hazed mind still grasped at him.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the man, face with the white smeared away, leaving bare skin and dilated human looking eyes. The man was so desperate, but the lifeless expression in his eyes. It was hard for Bruce to look at the Joker so... lobotomized. The cackling laughter, sneaky smiles, deceitful glances were all taken away. The man who held on, trying to climb up the Dark Knight was so harmless and fragile.

His teeth grit and and he struggled with himself, struggled to push the madman off him.

"Bats," the husky whisper caused a ripple down the crusader's spine, as if the Joker... The man who was the Joker had reached into his chest and cupped his hand over his soul.

"Bats."

The inmate's body twisted from the black statue with a strong blow, flew and hit the padded wall.

A thin stream of saliva pooled from his mouth, he rolled on his belly mindlessly. As if acting on instinct, on all fours, arms moving more insect-like.

Batman took several steps back.

"Look how crazy Batman has made Gotham."

The recording ached him like a hard, unforgiving day.

The sheer guilt made his body rigid, unable to flee from his creation.

He had created this monster.

Just like Gotham and it's dark madness had driven him to dress up like a giant bat character, he had done the same for.... Joker.

Inspired him. Inspired him to reach for the darkness, tap into insanity, deviance.

And now the man without the madness still crawling like a slug towards Batman, maddened.

The slick tongue ran up the shell of Batman's boot, up to the knee, liking the taste, fingers shacking hands to ankles.

The hard tug aided by a blind stare held Batman's leg in place, kept the hero from crushing the figure near his feet.

"Want you... Bats... So bad."

The heel stopped from stomping, eyes so pure and innocent stared back. The man kneeled, unbuckling under the black boot on his shoulder.

He couldn't do it.

In a sick way, he wanted the Joker too.

The evil Joker to return, knife in hand, spinning the blade in a dangerous circle while the city burned.

It's be so easy to let him die then.

Let it happen.

Not save him.

Like he let Ra's al Guhl die.

Bruce grimaced as the Joker began licking the inside of his leg, a droning, drowning voice echoing to his ears.

"Bats."

"Bats—I..."

"Bats." The tongue reached his thigh, eyes rolling back.

Batman found himself conflicted, the man was clearly insane and on drugs. But despite the mind numbing chemicals and pills, it didn't stop making him want to be near Batman.

"You complete me."

The hero crumbled as the limbs pulled him down to the floor.

Hands cradling his head, pressing his masked face into the inmate's beating chest.

Inside there was the Joker, trapped in a human like body.

All he had to do, Bruce felt the arms cage him.

His hand tried to reach out, snuff out the life like blowing out a candle at the end of it's wick.

The hand clasped around the inmate's neck, twitches of life fluttered in a vein.

His hand fell.

How obvious.

He was the light.

Himself.

Bruce lay there until the clinging man fell asleep, desperate arms wrapped around cold, unfeeling black.

"I love—"

Bruce's voice strangled out before the sentence died.

* * *

-

_My darling.  
Before I fall down and break down  
Please don't turn away  
Don't you understand  
For me  
It's Not Easy_

-

* * *

Note:

T_T The song is "It's Not Easy," a break up song by Hitomi Tooyama, from the anime movie "Wicked City." Which is... Um... There are teeth that come out of woman's vagina... Because she is a (spider) demon, which is why this song from the anime movie is... Inappropriate. I just liked the song and it made me write this fic (with the prompt).

I will explain my idea, because I don't know how well I conveyed it. Bruce is trying to kill the Joker, but the man is on so much drugs he is more of a wingless moth struggling towards his concept of "light." He still "recognizes" Batman and something in him still desires him which is why he reacts in a surreal way. Which is why Bruce can't kill him. Bruce confesses love the same way the Joker is babbling "nonsense." Nonsense that is part half-truth.

He tries to do the "right thing," by killing the Joker. (Rising by sin.) But rather than kill the Joker, he fails again (falling by virtue), because is a kind hero. Guwahhh. ;-;


	4. Thanatos

**Title:** Thanatos  
**Author/Artist:** Ol' Fighty (fights)  
**Fandom:** BB/TDK, NolanVerse  
**Rating:** PG, but you're still gonna cry.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman man, and do not profit off the sadness this fanfic makes me feel. The song Thanatos is not by me either. It's from Evangelion. Kaa~y.  
**Warnings:** Character Death.  
**Summary:** Batman dies. Please listen to this song while you read. Batman/Joker.  
**Words:** 487 Words

-

* * *

It had been filmed.

Batman lay prone, folded over. Some lingering pride in his still form, unmasked face down. The Joker seemed to fall with him, his body draped over the bloody wounds, dying his custom suit a new colour of red. White gloves red, with red asphalt and red blaring police lights. And the screeching wails of of the foul jester's broken heart that prevented the firing of police guns, who knew the smiling clown could make such a sound.

Could pierce the hearts of Gotham like the song of an Opera, take the grand stage in the final act as both villain and loser.

Like a lone loon over the lake.

The pumping sobs created a painful resonance over crackling wood and warping metal.

Gordon zoomed in manually on Batman's face wrapped in a velvet, violet veil. Secret safe.

And with the lifeless body of a hero curled up like a child in his mother's arms, it was clear to see that it was not orchestrated and then the sound of sadness died.

The Commissioner's blackened hand curled over the image, the buzzing television screen and paused image, wanting nothing more than to hide the painful mortality that broadcasted in an apologetic gesture.

"_No one is going to take you away,_" the words mouthed over the sound of exploding building and Gotham dying.

The camera's neck careened back and burned after that.

Gordon had re-watched the tape after crossing paths again with clown after the disappearance of Bruce Wayne.

A man who would reappear in the most disquieting way.

The face of the Joker fresh in his mind, though the clown bent back and empty smile told a different story. An old and faded shadow startling the Commissioner like a ghost.

An empty manor. A mourning butler. A charred corpse in a brutal cremation.

And when the Joker exited the crime scene, rescinding into the night, he stood on the roof like an unwanted fiddler. Knee bent on a chimney, lit by the moon and surrounded by a hundred of his enemies armed with weapons ready to kill him. And Gordon knew in the the Joker's hollowed eyes, that he also knew that the wishes for his death were coming true.

His final words haunted and Gordon found them troubling him more and more and more that he thought and learned he wanted more than to forget, as to be ignorant is the wish of the weary wise man.

But it was as if it were his story to know, to tell. And Gordon knew when he was ready, he would tell his grandchildren and grandchildren, like a madman's fairy tale. Because perhaps, in the end, it was what it was. It would his legacy, as the survivor of two.

Eyes white slits on painted black gazed at Gordon. Before the Joker burst into flames—and he said:

**_"Love conquers all."_**

And evil was defeated.

-

[**The End**]

* * *

_What of us, what do I say  
Are we both from a different world  
Cause every breath that I take,  
I breathe it for you  
I couldn't face my life without you  
And I'm so afraid.  
There's nothing to comfort us  
What am I, if I can't be yours_

* * *

Note:  
God, I'm sorry. I had to write a fanfic to the song "Thanatos" after watching a scene in Evangelion while researching ideas for a Graphic Novel. The symphony Thanatos is the version I was listening towards the end of writing this short piece of fiction. So if you read it a second time, please listen to that version after the camera dies in the fanfic instead of through out. The lyrics at the end are from the vocal version of the song. I wanted to write a fanfic like this for a long time, so I finally did. I always wondered the billions of ways the pair would go down.

Everyone knows that Batman would go first, and then the Joker would follow. Like a shadow. Because.... Gotham is Batman's soul, and Batman is the Joker's.

T_T Goodnight everybody!


	5. With Her

**With Her**  
Old Fighty  
Genderbend, JokerxBatlady  
206 words

-

* * *

-

His hand parted the green curtain, wine in hand splashing wild, wasting on the windowsill.

He peered up, with dark, tired eyes into a dulled night sky was made bright by a beam of light, shining a yellow moon.

He had climbed so high to catch a glimpse of his shy nymph.

Maybe see her dance on rooftops, legs outstretched in a ballerina's leap.

She made him see the stars and the burst of bright lights that burned more than a chain-game of LSD and trippers. And when she touched him, with her curled hands and hard legs it made him shudder. He never felt this way, not even when he was in Junior High and Susan Blue put his hand up her dress and let her feel her warm thighs, the soft curls, the intricate folds of a woman that he had found puzzling at the time but had eventually mastered only to lose all his suave to the swagger of a lithe black body.

Black head to toe with a black cape that spread to be her wings when she flew and she flew when she jumped like a bird and he watched, with hands on his chins, wishing to go flying with her.

[**The End**]


	6. Still a loser

* * *

_disclaimer: "_I don't own anything Batman related_!"_

* * *

**Title**: Still a loser  
**Author**: **ol_fighty** (fights)  
**Prompt**: _"I can't remember when I had my first waking nightmare. They're too disturbing to call daydreams."_ – Devour (2005 film)  
**Summary**: The Joker is trapped in a nightmare. Batman is there with him. Implied mpreg, references the "Killing Joke."  
**Words**: 607, minus quotes

* * *

He was far enough along to quit, far along enough along that he should quit. There was Nightwing, Robin, the Oracle. Other people could, would, wanted to step in and fill his shoes. Prove their worthiness to their mentor and respected hero. Even Superman had offered to pitch in and assist in the growing emergency. However, because Gotham inflicted madness, there was still and always be one person that only Batman could face. In the alley of Arkham, in the edge of an hour where staff and inmates couldn't see him.

"Still a loser," Joker mutters, snarling face, crumbling into itself.

Batman looked to Gordon who made an encouraging gesture, although it was not very encouraging without security. Odd enough, Gordon was the Commissioner, but even he had been been captured before. The Dark Knight paused. In previous situations, Batman would have barrelled through. Tossed the Joker to a wall, squeeze him until the madman was satisfied and presented the first clue to a winding adventure. Except there was no "clue." No mystery. There was no Joker on the streets for weeks, but in addition to that Batman had not been spotted. Batman opened the door, closing it behind himself soundlessly.

"Jeanie?" Bruce watched, hesitant to make a move. The Joker was alone, incapacitated, holding no weapons, eyes rounded and wide. He rose, book falling from his lap. Instinctively Bruce moved his hands to protect what was most important. An action which garnered a sorry gasp from the Joker himself.

"Oh god," instead of a throttle, the Joker fell to his knees. Hands ghosting over Batman's black gloves. "Oh god, I'm sorry!"

Another sidelong glance at Gordon and he let the tearful face eventually press itself against his soft midsection.

They often lived secular lives for a good reasons, but the time in their days had become merged since the accident.

"I don't mean to take it out on you," he sobbed into Batman's dark clothing. He flinched when the Joker wails heightened from the twinge of life growing with him. Half of him made him stay with the madman, like a battered wife would with her abusive husband. For the kids. "You're suffering enough being married to a loser."

Batman's leather gloves pressed and pulled the Joker closer, "Joker, I—"

He could go mad, hurt the child. He glanced back at the window where Gordon peered in. "It's true, I can't support you. Oh Jeannie, what are we going to do?"

He was worsening, not eating. Reliving the same day over and over again.

The Joker looked at Batman, look up at him with such reverence. Arms around Batman's back, oblivious to Gordon, the eavesdropping inmates, Robin's quiet gaze. He continued to babble nonsensically. "I've got to get you out of here before the baby comes."

Batman tried not to smirk at the irony. The Joker did not even realize he was in Arkham anymore. People were starting to notice. He had slipped into a nameless persona who reacted and spoke only to Batman. The baby was growing, only three more months. What would he do when the baby came? Batman hand pressed over the Joker's hand, who made a small smile. Bruce felt the movement inside himself.

He stayed until the Joker fell asleep. Sneaking out had been hard, but made easier with Gordon's assistance.

Batman watched the road in his Batmobile on the drive home. Concentrating on safety. Concentrating on making it home alive on his last stint as Batman for a long time, but despite the effort drove home in a daze. His car finally slowed down into a park. By then Robin was already unbuckling his seat belt and heading for the elevator. Fifteen minutes, after Alfred arrived, insisting Batman pull the cowl off and get some rest. For the baby's sake.

Bruce looked at his reflection before going to bed that morning, analyzing his own face.

"I'm not Jeanie," he convinced himself. "I'm not.

Author's Note:  
I kept thinking of how Harley will never be Jeanie. I then wondered if Batman ever could, thus why this fanfic exists. This this shortie fic.


	7. Mystery! Mystery!

**Title:** Mystery! Mystery!**  
Author:** Ol' Fighty**  
Pairing:** Superman/Batman, Clark/Old!Bruce**  
Prompt:** _"Some interaction between Terry McGinnis of Batman Beyond and Clark and Bruce; can be in the future time period, can be crazy travel-back-in-time adventures. Preferably Terry attempting to get the two to have a conversation, make up after some fight, go on a date, have sex, or something along those lines. Can be either a Bruce/Clark friendship or romance. A very open ended prompt. A happy ending would be appreciated, but not required."_  
**Warnings:** Old man being accosted.  
**Summary: **An old prompt for the Batman/Superman Christmas prompts that I actually filled but never submitted because I was going through a rough time. Stalked, being stalked! When I am ever NOT being stalked? Sounds like the words of a quitter! And now it's here... And posted! I've still got it! *does the twist*  
**Words:** 902 Words

_

* * *

_

"Are you all right?" From Superman, it was a routine line. Terry absorbed those words as they seemed so surreal coming from the lips of Superman in his youth.

It was as if Bruce was in his head, chastising-warning him.

**_"Don't let him know about the future."_**

**_"Don't tell him about the future."_**

**_"Don't say you're from the future."_**

It also helped that a stern thwack on the back of the shins from behind brought the words up more sharply in his mind.

Old man Bruce was such a hardass.

Terry had met with Batman from the past, but not Superman. The Kryptonian seemed to... glow, even more than he had ever seen during the future. Superman was obviously younger, while the Superman of the future was speckled with grey and bore a stern, regal air. Even when mind-controlled or locked in battle with the enemy, he was very... Responsible, Terry couldn't properly articulate the thoughts in his head before Superman lowered in the air to reiterate his concern.

Bruce's old face tightened and hunched away, behind Terry.

"We're fine, Superman." Terry play-acted, with a false cheer. "You can trust we'll turn these guys in to the authorities. We can take it from here."

"Are you sure?" Superman raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, "I could easily-"

"We'll handle it Superman," Bruce spoke sternly. "Don't you have other people to save?"

"Ah... Erhm, yes," Superman stuttered, shoulders slumping slightly. "I'll be on my way then."

Almost as if out of conditioning, Superman took off without question which made Terry smirk a bit.

"What was that? You were all 'avoidy' like he was going to know we were from the future. We really have to thank Superman for wrapping this all up for us," Terry secured the bad guys with rope, which was a bit ironic due to the technology they possessed.

"This was supposed to be your job," Bruce said in an almost threatening tone, Terry deflected the words and prepared for more to come but the old man seemed to close up on himself. Bruce stared at the empty space where Superman had flown to and grimaced.

o

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking," Terry slowly slid his way up beside the table that the Flash was eating at. While the Flash had retired, he still mentored from time to time and was amazingly youthful and spry in comparison to the other dark, emo hero wannabees—which made Terry realize, the old Justice League must have been a much cooler place just with the people involved. "How close were Superman and Batman?"

"Superman and Batman were partners most of the time and worked together a lot despite Batman being... You know, why?" The Flash slid another hot dog into his mouth in a way that made Terry's mind go to dirty, dirty places. "You went into the past and saw too much, didn't you?"

"It's always been a bit dangerous snooping around where the Bat doesn't want you looking..."

"He's still the Bat?" Terry shouted incredulously, "what about me?"

"You're the mini-bat, I'm just joking." The former Superhero made a heart-shape with his fingers and gave a cheesy smile, "but you'll always be MY bat."

o

"Bruce," Terry froze. Superman was here and putting the sweet on Bruce. Bruce Wayne, the former Batman. His voice had sunken into such a sultry dulcet that Terry careened to hear more of the voice (despite the disturbing content)through the front door of the Wayne Mansion to confirm that he wasn't the one losing his hearing. "I want you. I still want you. I've always wanted you. We're both getting old Bruce, these wall are going to come down and the second they do."

"You'll what? Make a fool of yourself?"

Superman was feeding Bruce such honeyed lines that shattered the image he held for Superman, the respect was still there...

Still he stayed behind the door, hearing the angry shuffle of cloth, feet and cane.

"Get in here Terry!"

"Yes sir!" The new Batman opened the door and gaped. Clark Kent the reporter was draped over Bruce's shoulders as if the old man could support him with his legs and cane as support. Terry felt his eyes and brain burn as Clark pressed his lips against Bruce's aged lips and pulled back slowly, letting his lips depress slowly. Clark's mouth moved lower on his neck and suckled Bruce's skin like he was a teenage boy and not a middle aged man cross the bridge into retirement.

"This interview is over, now let go." Bruce pushed Clark away and started to button up the shambles of his shirt.

Clark Kent was no stranger to the Wayne household, but he'd never remembered Clark being so... Forward. "Get out of here, before I find a ROCK that's just right kind to throw at you."

"Excuse me," Clark gathered his suitcase and winked at a disgruntled Bruce, "I'll see you-"

"I thought Clark Kent became a professor when the Daily Planet evolved into a web news-network."

Bruce was still fumbling with his shirt to reply, "Stupid..."

"Wait a second, didn't I just hear Superman's voice." Terry shook his head and looked at Ace with confusion as if the dog had the answer.

Why Bruce's face remained red for the rest of the day was just one of the many mysteries that Terry intended to solve as Batman.

_**MYSTERY SOLVED**_(?)  
(The End)

**Author's Note:**  
I will start posting all my Batman fics here because if I don't then my computer will be a tomb of dead, unloved fics.


End file.
